I Dreamt...
Only the dreams are well rested
There was a cannonball sitting in my chest
That would kill me
If it fell slightly to my left.
Its weight would push out
Into the ribs beneath my breasts,
Leaving me exhausted,
And dying for breath.
Under its weight,
I lay in my bed as still as death,
For if I moved but an inch,
It would roll towards my heart,
And crush its senseless beating,
Until a faint whisper,
Escaping from my lips,
Would awaken the coiled snake
Sleeping below my chest.
But when I would wake,
I could still feel the empty hollow,
In my bowels
And in my lungs,
Where the snake and the cannonball
Used to rest.
About the Creator
Liam Cairns
In the words of Rod Serling; I never chose to write, I succumbed to it. I wrote my first story when I was nine for a school assignment and have never stopped. If you love the macabre, then consider my work submitted for your approval.
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